Your Destiny Lies Before You
by SomberBallad
Summary: Narcissa begins to wonder if everything in her life will be dictated for her...her classes, the way she dresses, even her husband? A Narcissa/Lucius beginning.


The snow cascaded down upon the castle for the first time that winter. It snowed for most of the afternoon and all Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures classes were canceled for that day. So many students had taken to pulling on scarves, mittens and hats and heading out into the frosty snow day. Narcissa and her sister Bellatrix sat in the warm confines of the Slytherin common room lazily doing Potions homework.

"I'm sick of Potions," complained Narcissa, who found her sixth year to be particularly trying in many different ways even without the hassle of Potions.

"You shouldn't have taken it then," replied Bellatrix simply, not looking up from her book.

"You know I don't have a choice," snapped Narcissa, completing the last problem from her homework and placing her books back in her bag. "It seems like I don't have much of a choice of anything. Father picks my classes, he picks my friends, and one day he'll pick my husband. It's like he doesn't trust me to uphold the family name."

"Would you?" Bellatrix asked her, finally looking up from her book.

Narcissa considered this question carefully, before casting her eyes down. "Probably not well enough for him."

Bellatrix looked at her sister for a moment and then decided. "It's probably best then."

"Is that what you really want, Bella?" asked Narcissa pleadingly. "Do you really want your life to be picked out for you because it upholds the family name?"

Bellatrix now sat down her quill and turned to look at Narcissa, "I don't see the problem with upholding the honor of this family. Ours is one of the only pureblooded families left in wizarding world; would you really want to be the one to ruin that? I like the way we live; we are powerful, and Father is really looking out for our best interests."

"I understand the importance of being a Black, but what if there is more than this? Do you really enjoy being restricted to the point…to the point of…to the point of not being able to breathe? Don't you feel like you are missing something?" asked Narcissa, shaking her head desperately.

"Like what?" asked Bellatrix strangely.

Narcissa looked at her sister wide-eyed and opened her mouth as if to respond but just shook her head looking vaguely at the ground. "I don't know." Bellatrix went back to her book, picking up her quill once again. Narcissa stared numbly at her sister for a few moments and then picked up her bag taking it to the dormitories. After pacing a few minutes by her bed she decided to stalk the castle.

The youngest Black daughter worriedly moved throughout the dungeons and then climbed the stairs walking around the main level. _There must be something more to me than just being a Black. I may never know what that is, because I may never get to see the world but through the eyes of my father. How is it that he's already made me forget my own dreams? I've become a prisoner of my own household. _

Narcissa looked up at the bustling students around her and wondered what it was like to be free. She veered towards the doors leading outside to the large common area outside. As she walked out she didn't shiver at the cold despite her thin green robes. Narcissa took a breath of the crisp air, and though this relieved the physical pressure from her chest, she still feel the weight of sovereignty lying upon her heavily. She would give it away in a second if she could somehow. The thing was, status wasn't something you could just give away, but it was something you had to destroy. The blonde girl sighed and sat down on the magically dry stone benches. She fingered the snake carving on the back of this particular bench. It wasn't that Narcissa didn't like Slytherin or her family's ambitions; heaven knew she would never want to marry a half-blood or a Muggleborn. It was just that she wanted to know she could, just to have something in her life not dictated to her by her family or the Dark Lord. She was loyal enough to him in many ways. There just had to be a way she could be loyal to him, her family and herself.

"Aren't you cold?" asked a familiar voice of indifference over her shoulder. She turned her head to look up the speaker and saw that it was Lucius Malfoy. She looked back down as he took a seat on the other end of the bench.

"I wasn't until you mentioned it actually, I was thinking about something else," she responded.

"What about?" he asked her, crossing his arms. Narcissa thought about it a minute before answering him. She and Lucius had known each other a long time; their families were very closely intertwined in high status of wizarding families. Both of them were instructed to like each other and that was the way it was. They would sit together at family dinners and dance at parties. It was more of a habit rather than an attraction; they were both just living the lives their parents had planned out for them. At school they would acknowledge each other, chat at meals if they happened to be sitting close enough, help each other with homework, all coincidentally—neither of them went out of their way to see the other.

"About my family," she said casually, wrapping her cloak around her tighter as she did now notice the biting wind.

"Oh," he replied vaguely. Narcissa looked at him quickly to see his reaction. He looked at the ground, tightening his scarf against the chill.. She bit her lip and decided to bring up what was on her mind. If anyone understood what she was thinking it was Lucius. She tried to bring it up casually so as not to sound too personal.

"What do you want to do after Hogwarts?" she asked him.

He looked at her a little bit surprised. "I'm going to work for the Ministry of Magic and then when my father retires I'll take his place."

"Is that what you _want_ to do?" Narcissa asked a little more timidly than she had intended.

He looked at her quickly. "What is that supposed to mean? Of course I want to…ever since I was young."

"Oh," replied Narcissa a bit sadly. "I didn't mean offense, I was just asking."

"Isn't that what you want?" he asked her.

"What do you mean?" she replied, her dark blue eyes meeting his bland gray ones.

"Don't you want what is best for the Blacks?" he asked her as if it were one of most obvious things he had heard in a while. Lucius had caught on to her meaning awfully quick, and she began wondering if he hadn't been worrying about the same thing.

"Do you mean do I want to become the slave wife of a filthy self-righteous pureblood wizard? No, I don't," she snapped back, standing up.

"So you would go off and marry someone to kill your bloodline, defaming the house of Black?" he asked her, standing up as well so he could tower above her.

"No! You obviously don't know me at all Lucius, because if you did, you know I would rather die before marrying beneath me." Narcissa paused calming down a bit. "I just don't want to live a life laid out for me; I want to be my own person. I'm not a chess piece in a master game of wizarding families," she growled, looking at him vengefully. Lucius cold glare abated a little and he sat back down.

"You know what I mean don't you?" she asked him sitting next him.

"You can't deny what is laid out for you," he said, not really answering her question.

Her blue eyes looked at him desperately. "Why not?"

"Because that is not the way it is. You and me…we are meant to live lives that have been in the making for generations. It's with the help of your family and my family that the Dark Lord will prevail, and that's just how it has to be. Isn't that what you want?" Lucius persisted, sounding as if he wanted to convince himself just as much as Narcissa.

"Of course I want the Dark Lord to come to power but…but…does that mean I have to sacrifice my entire soul for him?" she asked, feeling as if she was trying to find the way out of an unfathomable maze.

"I think that is what we are meant to do," replied Lucius lamely, his voice becoming less and less audible.

"How do you lose your soul?" she asked him, edging closer to hear, now feeling his warmth.

"You just learn to play a part, be who they want you to be. We are just performing, Narcissa, you've got to be the part, and then you'll forget your soul, your hopes, and your dreams. Then it all becomes a forgotten memory. I probably couldn't remember what I wanted to do before things started changing," said Lucius vaguely as if he were trying to remember back.

"It sounds lonely," murmured Narcissa, shuddering at the thought of losing herself in sacrifice for someone she barely knew.

Lucius looked at her for a moment, misinterpreting her shudder. "Let's go inside, you're freezing out here."

Narcissa only nodded, following him into the castle, her cloak wrapped around her tightly. It wasn't enough to dispel the chilling wind or the cold thoughts haunting her mind.

The next few weeks went by as usual. Narcissa did her best in her N.E.W.T. classes and after no time at all midterms were over and it was time to go home for the winter break. This whole time, though, Narcissa tried to keep Lucius's words in mind and played the parted, acted her role. Sometimes she could forget herself when caught up in playing Narcissa, but as she had speculated it was very lonely to be living in your own world.

They took the Hogwarts Express back to Kings Cross Station. Narcissa, Bellatrix, and Lucius shared a compartment in almost complete silence the whole way home. Bellatrix was absorbed in a letter to her boyfriend, Rodolphus; Lucius read the Daily Prophet; and Narcissa just stared out the window lost in her own thoughts, hoping she was thinking what she was supposed to think. The three of them walked from the station a few miles to the Black mansion. The mansion looked dismal as always, no Christmas decorations could be seen, and it still looked like an old haunted house from the outside. There were ghosts from time to time but the house was hardly haunted. The three of them entered the house to find the inside as uncelebrated as the outside. Granted the inside was far more grand and elegant, in an old-fashioned sort of manner. House-elves were constantly cleaning it so it was always spotless. It almost looked a little unnatural, like it wasn't quite right for a family of four. They wandered into the main room towards the fireplace. From the fireplace Lucius flooed himself to his own manor, leaving Bellatrix and Narcissa alone in their large house. Their father worked all day at the Ministry of Magic, as a supervisor for the Department of Mysteries. He never actually had been in the Department of Mysteries, but he supervised the goings-on there. He worked long and awkward hours; the girls could only guess at what time he would get home. As for their mother she was probably off socializing at the house of some other powerful wizarding family. Bellatrix and Narcissa were left alone a lot and were quite used it, it was actually more awkward when their parents were actually home.

Within moments of Lucius leaving, an old house-elf came into the room bowing as he entered.

"This came for you Miss Black, just a few moments ago" he said wearily presenting a rolled up parchment to Bellatrix.

"Oh it's from Rodolphus," she squealed anxiously, as if she hadn't just seen him a few hours ago. She snatched the letter from the house-elf leaving her bag in the middle of the floor waving her had for the house-elf to get it, running up the stairs towards her bedroom. He stared at it a minute before asking Narcissa for her bag.

"Yes, yes," responded Narcissa absently, dropping her bag on the floor for him to grab. He started dragging the girls' bags slowly out of the room, both the bags twice his size; nonetheless he made his way out. Narcissa stared at the pathetic creature momentarily, before a question came to her mind.

"Why haven't the decorations for the Christmas party been hung?" she asked him, crossing her arms.

The house elf turned to face her looking a bit guilty, "With all the chores Lady Black has assigned us, we haven't quite had time to start those yet," he paused a moment and tried to defend his position, "the party isn't until next week, Miss Narcissa."

"Well hurry up with the chores then, it's dreary around here, I want to see something up by the end of the day or I'll talk to Father about this," she replied spitefully.

"Yes miss," the house elf replied turn back to his bags, dragging them out of sight.

Narcissa sighed, dropping into the red couch a few feet from the fireplace. She certainly felt dreary and depressed, though she had a high doubt that Christmas decorations would help it. When a bunch of them finally were put up that evening, she found that they hadn't helped at all, except to harass a few house elves, but even that didn't satisfy her like it normally did. Something needed to change, and soon.

"…so then the Minister promised me that we had nothing to worry about, news of a dark lord was just rubbish. Oh if only he knew, that dear foolish man." Narcissa stared up at her father, who was going on loudly at the end of the table. He had already drunk far too much and was showing off to his guests of the Christmas party. Narcissa sincerely hoped he didn't embarrass himself, because if he did, tomorrow would be a long day. She pushed the meat around on her plate, rearranging it to look like it had been eaten. She wasn't hungry; she hadn't felt hungry for a long time now. She didn't feel much of anything lately; she hoped this was a good sign, this numbing feeling. Perhaps she was losing her soul, or at least she could only hope.

After the dinner was cleared, the guests proceeded into the ballroom to dance, to smoke, or to just chat idly in the corner. Narcissa and Bellatrix were supposed to remain on the dance floor as partners to whomever wished to dance, as it was their duty as hostesses. Or so that was what their father told them. As it turned out, Bellatrix would mostly likely remain in Rodolphus's arms the entire night, and Narcissa would have to dance with strange men from other powerful wizarding families. She just smiled, chatting politely with them. It was always the same though; men who had drunk far too much at dinner tried being overly friendly and tried taking advantage of her while dancing. They would grab, or look in places far too inappropriate for men with wives and young daughters of their own. Narcissa had learned to gracefully deal with men like this, and usually had felt quite violated by the end of the night, but tonight was different; though she cared, that numbness prevented anger from rising fully. She took a break after dancing for an hour; she stood in the corner trying to stay out of sight, sipping whatever wine was offered to her by the house-elf. She stared at the wizards around her, all so powerful, all so pompous. She wished she could be just like them, proud without a care as to how they became that way. She wondered if they had a choice or if their future was laid out for them as well. Mr. Malfoy, Lucius's father, bowed before her, taking her right hand to kiss it. She smiled, making a cordial greeting. She saw him have a couple of those drinks earlier that night; luckily he was one of the few men that actually treated her with the respect she deserved.

"My dear Narcissa, I haven't seen you all evening, how have you been my dear?" he asked silkily, swirling the drink in his own glass elegantly.

"Very well thank you, I'm sorry to hear about the controversy with the minister, I know that must be difficult for you," she replied trying to make small talk politely.

"Yes, yes," replied Mr. Malfoy waving his hand in a careless manner, "I'm always covering for that fool though, it's my job. Lucky for you, you'll never have to worry about such things."

Narcissa forced a smile. "I still suppose it concerns me as well though, as I am still apart of the wizarding society."

"Yes, but you won't have to work a day of your pretty little life, Lucius will take care of you certainly, just as long as you two can continue the legacy of our families. It is no small task you two will achieve, oh, it will be glorious!" he exclaimed raising his glass in a toast to no one in particular.

Narcissa blinked, and couldn't find a proper way to hold back her surprise. "Lucius?" she asked finding herself at a loss for words.

"Oh yes, yes, we always said you two would be together, ever since you were children, it's simply marvelous that you have come to know each other so well." Mr. Malfoy didn't see the least bit unnerved by her surprise and she felt increasingly sick. Feeling seemed to creep back into the empty spaces, and feeling was a revolting one. It was anger, resentment, disgust, and sorrow rolled into one awful feeling and she didn't know what to say or to do. For once she was grateful that someone was telling her what to do.

"Oh Narcissa," Mr.Malfoy said, motioning his arm to someone. "Here is Lucius now, you two should dance, you haven't all night long."

Narcissa just nodded in submission letting Lucius lead her out onto the dance floor. She somberly starting dancing with him, thankful her feet remembered how to move because her mind was so far from their spot on the floor. Lucius wasn't stupid though; he saw the trouble from across the room. His father had no doubt made a mistake.

"What did my father say to you?" he asked her, twirling her out and then spinning her back in to him. Narcissa said nothing and just continued to dance, her face void of any emotion. Lucius's eyes bored into her, frustration already starting to mount. He _knew_ something was wrong, and he wasn't going to be ignored.

Forcefully he clutched her tightly against him and, using his right hand to tilt her head up, he asked her again, "What did he say to you?" Their eyes met momentarily and she looked at him with a helpless look, and then a look of rage.

She wrenched away from him and looking up whispered disdainfully, "Is that how you would treat your wife?" She held her hating glance for a long time before finally stalking out of the ballroom. Waving off worried glances with a gorgeous smile. Lucius stood stunned in the middle of the ballroom and his eyes followed her long after she had left the room.

Narcissa sat in the armchair by the window in her room. When she was a little girl, when something didn't go her way she would sit in the chair, and stare out the window imagining she was somewhere else, or someone else. Narcissa tried really hard to imagine she was Narcissa Malfoy and that she had a husband that truly loved her. She tried to imagine how happy she was with staying home all day and enjoying the neighborhood gossip. She tried to imagine being the perfect paper doll wife, like she was supposed to be. She tried to imagine that the power and the title brought her happiness. And though she tried her best, the tears that fell down her perfect face were proof that she might never be able to pretend her way out of misery. It wasn't that she didn't love her family, or the importance of being a Black. It wasn't anything against Lucius, she felt bad for him too. She just felt in chains. Her life had been planned since she was a child and every decision she had made was never her own. She felt like a toy doll, and she going to be dressed up and married to a man she hardly knew.

She wiped the tears from her face and scolded herself, "This is not the way a Black accepts her fate."

"No, it's the way a human does," said Lucius, who was standing outside her bedroom. She looked up, and then looked away again; she didn't know what to say.

"Did you really find it unexpected, Narcissa? Couldn't you see how long this has been planned?" he asked her anxiously. It was apparent he had known for a long time. Though he asked her in impatience, Narcissa felt that Lucius didn't find her disbelief all that disagreeable.

"Lucius this life is a joke, I've been lying to myself for years! I'll never be able to understand it now. Don't you ever feel trapped? You are just a pawn, we will always be pawns," she said exasperatedly, not getting up from her chair--what little comfort it brought her, she decided to cling to.

"You think that you have been in a cage when you really have just been…you've been…led," started Lucius aggressively pausing a moment to let it sink in. "Maybe you had to take classes at school, but you succeeded on your own. Maybe you were told to dress in the finest robes but you were beautiful on your own. Maybe your were told how to act or how to dance, but you were graceful on your own. You may have been directed, but you flourished and become who you've are on your own. The only one who has put you chains is yourself. You have only become a prisoner in your own mind."

Narcissa faltered, casting her eyes at the ground, unable to think of a response. She almost felt ashamed, and now was very uncertain what to believe. Maybe he was right, and maybe he was wrong. She only knew that it sounded logical, maybe it was all in her mind. And if it was a lie, at least it made sense, maybe that's how he had gotten through all these years.

"But Lucius, we hardly know each other," was all she could manage from the questions and thoughts buzzing in her head.

"Maybe… but we have always known each other and even if this didn't come to pass, we always will know each other. We can't begin expecting the worse," he replied simply, gaining more confidence than when he had started.

She couldn't help but smile in the midst of all the confusion; he was the same, logical as always. If there was anything she had learned about Lucius, there were few things that would awaken his emotions; at all other times, logic served him correctly. The two of them remained there in complete silence for what seemed like a long time, Narcissa reflecting on everything she had learned tonight, and Lucius reflecting on whether he had been completely honest, or whether or not it mattered. Finally he broke the silence extending his hand towards her.

"Would you care you dance?" he asked.

"I suppose I always will," she replied, though not so somberly as either of them would have expected.

"At least you'll never have to dance alone," he said raising her from the chair.

"Just as long as we can always pretend to be happy together," she returned, now smiling brilliantly; whether it was a real or fake smile, it was hard to tell.

"Maybe one day, we won't have to," he whispered, leading her back to the ballroom.


End file.
